rise of the new doctor
by hikui
Summary: The snow started like a rumor. Like a secret whispered under hushed tones or a hastily scribbled note being passed on to whomever it may have concerned. It piled on top of the London pavement, the cobblestones stained with the white substance for the umpteenth time in the present year; her apartment building felt cold. -whouffle!multichap.
1. Chapter 1

**.rise of the new doctor.**

**dedication: **_to all those Whovians who cried after Eleven's regeneration, I salute to all of you. _

**summary: **_Because Clara doesn't feel like the impossible girl anymore. She felt hollow, angry and sad inside. –after Eleven's regeneration. Whouffle. _

* * *

She stared at the Doctor, the _new _Doctor, with tear stained cheeks and swollen red eyes. _Not her Doctor, not mine. _Clara backed away immediately, knocking over a metal contraption in the process. The new face started barking questions at her; his hands flying over to the machinery- pressing random buttons and pushing random levers, turning knobs and shouting irrelevant words with his stupid Scottish accent. The brunette glanced helplessly at her hands, then at the exact spot where the previous Doctor –_her Doctor_– stood and smiled at her for the last time. Disappointment and sadness surged through her veins, and then came the confusion.

With new found anger, Clara walked over to where the new Doctor was busy panicking over the controls. She shoved him away like one did to a pest and simply pressed a few red buttons here and there. Clara knew how to fly the Tardis. She'd seen her Doctor do it all the time –it was second nature to her now. "I asked you if you knew how to fly this thing. You didn't have to shove me to impress me!" The twelfth Doctor said, readjusting his coat and brushing off the invisible dirt on the sleeves as the Tardis stopped its' angry noises and began to follow the female companion's commands.

Clara's hands hovered over the lever. She could remember all those times her Doctor had done the exact same act. All of the times they'd dance around the controls, laughing and talking about which planet they wanted to go to next. Shakily, she pushed the lever up to activate the command. The brunette slumped to the ground, brought her legs close to her chest and covered her tear stained face with her hands. All Clara ever wanted to do was to go home and cry, cry, cry until she couldn't anymore –forget about Christmas dinner and the turkey she was stressing so much about. She hadn't noticed that the twelfth Doctor had been tidying up. He grabbed all the discarded clothes the previous one had dumped messily on the ground; folded all of them in a rushed manner, piled them one on top of the other and knelt down towards the younger female. He didn't even know her, but it hurt to see her so broken and vulnerable. "Hey." He whispered softly as he listened to her soft whimpers and the revving of whatever engine the Police Office Box contained.

"I believe these belong to you." Clara lifted her head and didn't look him in the eye. She mumbled thanks and hugged the pieces of clothing close to her body as possible. "Well, I'm the Doctor. I believe you were the companion of my last self; however, I may have forgotten your name. Would you care to freshen up my memory?"

The female brunette observed the gentle way he spoke; as if he was scared that one wrong mistake would shatter her vulnerable self into pieces. She shook her head, the waterworks leaking as she smiled bitterly. "Clara Oswin Oswald." She introduced herself, lacking the same enthusiasm she always possessed. He smiled casually and shoved his hands into his slacks pockets. "Well Clara Oswin Oswald, how about a nickname then?" The Doctor leaned back on the machinery and looked at his own surroundings. He glanced at the girl who seemed to be stuck in her thoughts and sighed. "Alright, here on out, I shall call you _Clara_-"

The revving sound of the engine stopped both of them as Clara stood up rather abruptly. "Oswin, call me Oswin." She turns her back to him and musters up a fake smile; because that was what she was good at, right? Hiding her emotions and feelings, wallowing up in depression and her fears; most girls would have gone to the only solution to end it all. But no, she was strong. Clara believed she could live through it; befriend another Doctor. She walks to the exit, her heels making a _clink clank_ sound with every heavy step she took. "And," Clara says, looking at the new Doctor. She smiles for real this time. "If you need help flying the Tardis, you know where to look for me."

"Will do, Oswin." He says with a shy chuckle.

Clara could see a faint similarity between the new Doctor and _her_ Doctor. It could be the crinkle in their eyes or the way they smile –the lips tugged at the corner whenever they smirk, or the way they have the same body physique; and how about the way they just sparkle and come alive when they know they've cheered up a person? A newfound hope surges in Clara as she's met with a dawning realization.

With that, she hurries out of the Tardis and into the outside. Earth. Her planet, her home.

* * *

**au: **_so, I just finished watching the christmas special yesterday- and I hated the way the episode ended. it was so heartbreaking and I cried like, a lot of tears that even my parents burst into my room and thought I was being mauled by some robber who broke into the house. apparently they noticed that I was watching my favorite tv show and my feels were on some level that they hurried out of my room, scared that I might bring them to watch with me. just to get it clear, __**this isn't a one shot**__ and __**it is most certainly a whouffle entry –it just somehow shows Clara warming up to the new doctor. read and review? **__anyone willing to pm me and introduce yourselves? I would seriously enjoy fan girling with you, whovians. let me know what you think! :)_


	2. Chapter 2

**.chaptertwo **

**on the playlist: **death cab for cutie's I will follow you in the dark and wolfgang amadeus mozart's wiegenlied (lullaby), k 360.

**author's note: **I apologize for the temporary writer's block; there hasn't been internet at home for quite a while, the fourth preliminary exams had come up and I had to study really hard for that- the school year's going to end soon and I'm trying my best to top my class. Enough with the stupid school related topic; I've got good news for everyone. By the end of this chapter, there'd be a surprising author's note waiting for all you, Whovians. Hopefully you'd take part in the so-called surprise. *smiles mischievously.

* * *

The snow started like a rumor.

Like a secret whispered under hushed tones or a hastily scribbled note being passed on to whomever it may have concerned. It piled on top of the London pavement, the cobblestones stained with the white substance for the umpteenth time in the present year; her apartment building felt cold- heck, the whole of United Kingdom shivered under the upcoming snow storms –the weather man's words, not Clara's. A kettle of tea was boiling in the kitchen as the whole room was filled with the sweet aroma of ginger and cinnamon.

Christmas used to have meaning before her mother's death, before the brunette decided to stop being the unusual kid and started _growing up_ like the adolescent she was, before the Doctor left – _her_ Doctor. On her sixth layer of sweatshirt and seventh comforter pulled up until her neck, Clara felt like drifting away again. Back to the dark abyss that seemed to have been a constant in her life (up until she met the eleventh) and it was the feeling of being on antidepressants and depression that were eating away the little sanity and happiness she felt. The young woman didn't feel like going for a walk this morning –the usual way Clara tried to throw away her unhappy thoughts. On the outside exterior, she looked ok but in the inside; she felt hollow, confused, angry, and sad.

Clara Oswin Oswald was on her bed, staring gloomily at her window that separated her from the winter wonderland that was starting to form outside. Children were running around, chasing one another; building snowmen or lying on the cold ground making snow angels. A small, weak part of her wanted to put on her coat and mittens and just throw caution to the wind; go to the nearest toy store, find an actual school that could offer her a stupendous teaching profession or…

That was right. There would always be an 'or' to everything. Like how birthdays wouldn't be the same without celebrations, how building snowmen wouldn't be the same if it _weren't_ actual snow and how Clara wouldn't be the same without her Doctor goofing around, grabbing her hand and leading her into the Tardis and ask her what else of the magnificent galaxy she wanted to see. Clara would be lying if she said she didn't love him. The Doctor, she meant.

Before the Doctor waltzed into her boring life, there were only ever two men she'd come to love –her grandfather and her papa. When she was younger, she had a small group of boys in school giving her crumbly cookies during recess, telling her she looked pretty today or whatnot. Clara always politely declined them, using the proper lady etiquette her mother had taught her. In present times however, to be in a relationship, there must be social standing, communication, wealth, expensive or personal things that people flaunt for the opposite gender to come running after. Clara believed in the beauty of old things, of being old school and of being a conservative young woman like decades ago. She loved the Doctor for countless reasons, but one reason outstood the rest. He made her feel as if she wasn't alone and that he'd always be there for her no matter what would and might happen in this crazy messed up world; that with enough adventures, countless planets to visit, ancient tales of mystery and wonder, and with ol' reliable Tardis –everything would be fine and everything would be ok. He was simply magical, _her Doctor_, filled to the brim with his courage and beautiful words of wisdom and intellect. Sometimes, if the situation called for it, the previous Doctor would show his –not to mention, his lack thereof– martial arts techniques.

And oh, how he was just full of conversation every single time! The Doctor would just talk about the history of the universe and how long he'd been living in it or recall a funny and magnificent incident of his past life and Clara would hold on to every single word he spoke of. How his eyes would sparkle with tales of another adventure on a different planet with a previous companion he hadn't seen in _ages_, he'd say.

"_I might be feeling sentimental today, Clara. That or I might just be crazy after yesterday's adventure."_

"_My, my Doctor; you might have forgotten that you are and have always been crazy."_

"_Now's not the time to be fooling around with me, Clara!"_

"_Is there something intellectual that you're going to say after I finish this question?"_

"_If, by chance, you can't find me in the Tardis –or simply put, you couldn't find me anywhere in the usual places I'm supposed to be; don't panic Clara. I mean it. With the countless of adventures I took you on, you have that small part of you that would always have the knack for adventure and trouble. Make no mistake, Clara- if you can't find me, well. Look for trouble, and I'll always be there."_

A certain memory popped out of nowhere; one that hadn't been the easiest of missions to accomplish if the brunette could add. They were against Daleks that time, or was it the weeping angels? She had no clue. A million stories she could probably tell her children if she had any in the future. The only difference was that they'd have no idea the stories Clara was 'making up' were real.

"_Could you remember something for me, Chin Boy?"_

"_Of course I could, Clara –wait. What on Gallifrey did you just call me? Chin Boy? What is up with Chin Boy?!"_

The brunette smiled as the all-knowing tears started to fall. She could taste the salty liquid as it touched her lips. Of course in every structure in life there would always be the bad times; however when it came to Clara and the Doctor, the bad times would always be equivalent to petty arguments or horrendous choice of planets due to the Tardis's malfunctioning at some intervals. Or the latest case scenario in which he'd betrayed her and just… regenerated, Clara presumed.

"_Everyone leaves! I've known that for a third of my life; learned it when my mother left me and my dad crumbled to pieces. What's the difference with you then, Doctor?! You're bound to leave soon anyway. I might as well walk away from you before you do that to me. You wouldn't even get lonely! You could choose from different companions, could you? Choose other people, not me. I'm not fit for the job. So, yes. I guess this is goodbye, Doctor-"_

"_The funny thing is, Clara Oswin Oswald, I'm never going to leave this universe. Even if I wanted to, I could never. Do you know why? I don't either. But I can assure you that the whole universe could walk away from me or crumble to bits and I would still be standing right here, at this very spot. I am the Doctor, the Doctor would always live. The Doctor could surpass years, decades and centuries. You may not believe me, Clara, but I am a man of my word and you shall be my companion. You're special, Clara Oswin Oswald. I'd want you to embark on all of my crazy adventures with me."_

"_Oh, Chin Boy…"_

"_Stop it with the Chin Boy, already! Forget what I said. I don't want companions calling me Chin Boy. Leave if you must, Clara Oswin Oswald." _

Although to that, she could only laugh in the midst of her sorrows for Clara knew, without a doubt or a hint of hesitation; her Doctor never meant that statement. The brunette guessed that she finally understood what her Doctor meant when he said he'd always live. After every regeneration Clara presumed, there would always be another Doctor to replace the previous one –to save humanity from the evil that are lurking in the shadows for God knows how long. The Doctor would always walk this universe until the ends of time and would only choose a certain companion that they feel comfortable with, until their companions seem to build lives of their own and would soon leave.

Taking a deep breath and wiping her eyes, Clara felt more like she is special and needed. All she needed now was a little bit of hope, faith and encouragement. She knew she could do it, just like how _her_ Doctor knew she could. The young woman should take it slowly –she knew that much, but it was worth a shot.

"_You could learn, Clara. A thing or two about abandonment. It's never really an end to anything. More or so likely, in someone else's perspective, it could never really have been meant for you or it could be the start of something new. A rare beginning. Only the stars know how many people get new beginnings. And if you feel lonely or you feel as if you can't get back up –always, always remember– we will meet again, my Impossible Girl. I will wait for you in the clouds, up in the starry sky." _

* * *

**author's note: **Ohmygolly. Haha, I'm in such a good mood right now. I don't know why rather, but I'm actually really proud of this chapter. I wrote it in a span of two hours, revised it within thirty minutes, proofread it for about twenty and watched seasons 5, 6 and 7 of Doctor Who to keep me joyous and inspired. Not to mention that Valentine's Day is just around the corner and my group of friends and I are all single, but not to worry –we've got hilarious plans just to make our fourteenth of February wonderful. I apologize for the 12th Doctor not making any appearance in this chapter. I promise you though, in the next one, he'd be the star of the show. This is just a filler to help you understand what Clara's going through. Since I am a kid of my word, there will be some intense action by the third chapter. And nooo, there aren't any of those 'actions' you could be thinking of. *feigns shock. Anyway, _**read and review this chapter for me. Tell me what you thought about it through a pm or a review (although reviews would be better and I'll respond with a dainty message after reading). Comments, suggestions and/or flames are accepted as well; just don't be too harsh. Whovians who would love to fan girl with me, don't be shy –I don't bite for I am not a dog. *smiles. **_

**surprise message: **I'm in the mood to make a crossover of DW and Sherlock, since it's the second best British television show in my opinion. Although I would want to make a collaboration with someone –a reader or a writer– for this project of mine. Of course, free publicity and all that. Moving on, if any of you are interested, leave me a review regarding this chapter of what you thought about it and why I must pick you to be my fellow collaborator. Don't be such killjoys, love. All for fun and the purpose of making beautiful friendships all around the world. :' Finally, the best review I receive for this story would be able to make his/her own character that will be an OC and a special chapter written all about how your character is associated to my original story. Confused? Surprised? Well, leave a review or a pm if you are. I'd be happy to answer all your questions.

**ps: **Anyone who makes book covers like they do in wattpad? Free publicity and special dedication to the lucky bloke.

'til next time. –**kitsune**


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